


baby tell me yes (and i will give you everything)

by holy_smokes



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Death, Dave & Klaus Hargreeves During Vietnam, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Love, M/M, One Shot, References to Previous Abuse, Time Skips, Vietnam War, sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-29 20:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20802620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy_smokes/pseuds/holy_smokes
Summary: Klaus learns what a kiss really is.Or, the conversation Dave and Klaus had when they first kissed, plus the blossoming aftermath.





	baby tell me yes (and i will give you everything)

**Author's Note:**

> Ooft, this is 'all genres everythaaaang' but it's hella bittersweet one shot. Just wanting to get my writing mojo back and this is what I birthed. Throw ya girl a kudos or comment if it made you feel things! <3

* * *

* * *

Klaus had always believed a kiss is something like a cold can of Coke, a precursor to the main meal, something to whet the appetite and wet the tongue: necessary but devoid of flavor. 

He’s kissed many mouths, to shut them up, to hold up his end of the bargain - and many mouths have kissed him, whether he wanted it or not. 

A kiss is a used teabag, a pair of damp socks, a stolen bottle of cheap drugstore vodka - until he arrives naked in Vietnam.

**

_That Night_

The soldier from America’s Heartland could do shots as fast as he could, but unlike any other man who had matched his pace, Dave’s arm linked around his, skin to skin as they threw back liquor. Klaus only realized he couldn’t take his eyes off the well-sculpted, broad body a few hours into the evening, when alcohol had started to take over and everything felt as fuzzy as a broken TV. He laughed to himself, swaying to a foreign beat, because_ of course _ he had to crave the feeling of Dave on top of him, the first man he’d ever met who hadn’t just taken what he wanted whether it be the last dregs of Daddy’s money, sex, or scandalous Academy gossip.

Dave spoke to Klaus like he hoped for answers rather than expected them. Klaus didn’t know how to answer questions honestly, but he was trying.

He’d stumbled out of the main hall hosting their drunk dancing and found a quiet corridor, dismayed and delighted when Dave joined him, smiling warmly at Klaus's drunk, reflective state. They didn’t speak, just sparked up a shared smoke and Klaus tried not to stare in hunger. Dave looked good with it, smoke billowing out his curved lips and neck stretched, even if for the first time in his entire life it made Klaus hate cigarettes - he couldn’t bear the thought of black tar tainting Dave’s lungs.

“You got a sweetheart at home?” Dave asked, passing the smoke back to him, looking pleased with himself in a way that made Klaus want to drop down to the floor and feel the grip of a strong hand at the back of his neck.

He shook his head, amused by the idea of having a sweetheart. 

“Do you?” he asked instead, taking a drag, stomach turning anxiously at the thought of Dave having someone gorgeous and sweet waiting on him.

Excitement flooded his veins as Dave shook his head too.

“Can’t believe that you don’t have anyone,” Dave frowned, throwing the cigarette away, “_look_ at you.”

The anxiety in Klaus’s stomach bubbled into something else, eyes flitting to Dave’s, seeing a mirrored want in his eyes. He arched his back, desire chasing around his body, sprinting like it’s a marathon.

“There’s not much to see,” he half-joked, but self loathing is a difficult thing to contain. He was bewildered when Dave reached out, planting a warm hand on his cheek, but it was enough - he turned on his heel, meeting him halfway for a kiss. 

Dave kissed like he fought - carefully, passionately - and it’s all Klaus could do not to cry, overwhelmed with the simplicity of it, the gentle way Dave cradled him before breaking it, smiling.

“Let’s dance.”

**

Klaus had been knocked for six that the kiss was just a kiss, not a starter before the main. The kiss mattered on its own. They danced a little more, drank a little more, and fell asleep back in their tent, side by side but not quite touching. 

Not quite, just Dave’s hand on his wrist, anchoring him to the ground as if he might float away without it.

That was their relationship, for the most part. Snatched minutes, hours if they were lucky, of Klaus trialing answering Dave’s questions honestly and as a reward, he received kisses. He’d been missing out, that’s for sure, on the power of a kiss -- now, kisses were soft, clean bed sheets, steaming hot mugs of coffee, sunrise over the sea. They revitalized him, his body thrumming with joy every time Dave bestowed a kiss upon him.

Klaus started to get braver, initiating them himself, allowing himself to want it.

There’s a kiss that Klaus - _smacked sideways, eyes red raw, gasping for air after another hour of sobbing, present Klaus_ \- clings onto the memory of. 

It’s the kiss that _ did _ lead to more. Dave had snuck them out of an off duty squadron party to a crappy hostel, shutting the nearly broken bedroom door, ready. He must have seen the panic in Klaus’s eyes, face faltering as he stuttered, “ _ are you - is this not - we can go back? _ ” and Klaus didn’t know how to say it. He couldn’t convey the fear he felt in having someone that made him smile, who made him feel _ safe _ touch his skin, see what he really was when he was naked -- all those cruel, filthy and true words men had spat at him over the years, including his own Father.

He stepped forward instead, hands around Dave’s neck as he kissed him, hoping that was enough. That all those unsaid words he couldn’t say, that would never be said, could be felt in a kiss.

_ Don’t go, don’t leave me. I need you, please _.

Dave didn’t let go. If anything, it was stifling, the ferocious Vietnamese weather mixed with the feeling of his heart about to break his rib cage and beat out of his body because this insane, beautiful man wouldn’t let Klaus do his usual dance. As Klaus tried to reach for him, or say something cheesy, Dave ignored it - he wanted Klaus spread out on the bed, hands flopping off the mattress as he chased every inch of skin. Klaus shut his eyes tightly as his new infatuation headed down south, mouth gorgeously hot as he licked at skinny, pale inner thighs before throwing Klaus’s small body around in a smack down that almost made Klaus come on the spot from the sheer brutality of it. It was _ beautiful _ \- Dave spreading him open and pressing his tongue down, making Klaus cry out in a way that sounded like pain and perhaps it was, a little. Pain that he’d never had someone play his body like an expensive piano before, that no one with any talent or love had touched him, that he was always left used and discarded like an empty bottle.

Dave was gentle, yes, but he was insistent. If it was making love, it was the desperate kind, Klaus clinging to the pillow for dear life as he moaned and cried out into it, at least attempting to disguise what was happening in their room, Dave alternating between thrusts that made their bed frame smack into the wall repeatedly to rotating his hips gently, checking how deep he was, not picking up pace until he’d heard Klaus beg a few times.

Dave slept soundly, somehow, their first night together. 

Klaus blinked through tears and a smile on his face that made him ache, unable to fight the feeling of wild, unashamed, rebellious love every time he looked over at his lightly snoring sweetheart. 

Klaus had a sweetheart, for a brief moment. And when his sweetheart left - when the hope in his eyes flickered out, the blood in his throat rendering him voiceless forever, stealing a mouth that had sang and laughed and tasted Klaus - the grief that followed was unlike any mausoleum dungeon.

Yet, sometimes, as he fights through, shaking and vibrating with a need to numb the pain, he can feel those arms wrapped around him at night and a kiss once more pressed to the back of his neck.

A kiss that he can’t return, but a reminder of what love feels like -- his sweetheart, now and always.


End file.
